Existing
by SaiFy
Summary: Chelsea can't stay with her father anymore. Every night, he drinks himself into a stupor and beats her, mistaking her for the wife who left him. Sometimes she just wishes she could not exist. After all, it was all her fault. Rated M for violence, and mentions of rape. VaughnXChelsea main pairing.
1. Chapter 1

It was a Tuesday night in early Summer. I sat still and silent in the dimly lit kitchen. It reeked of mold, mildew, and alcohol. The white linoleum was slowly becoming a rusty brown over the years and I didn't have to guess what from. I had the scars to prove the exact place those stains originated from. They were all like old friends to me now. The big round one by the stove was companion to the round pale white scar in my left temple. The three little ones by the fridge closely packed together but still separate went hand in hand with the long, pink scar down my right forearm. Even the ironically heart shaped one by the table that was partner-in-crime to the now healing stab wound that disappeared underneath my skimpy tank top, on my right side. I heard a door upstairs slam off of its hinges, followed by a series of mumbled curses as the man I once looked up to clambered down the stairs, swaying slightly, and stumbled into the kitchen. He didn't see me; didn't even look. My big blue eyes followed him as he staggered over to a cupboard and he reached a large, hairy hand in before extracting a large glass bottle full of clear liquid. I tensed as I watched papa twist the lid to the bottle and tip it up, downing a swig of vodka.

Straight from the bottle. No chaser. No mixing. Happy 20th birthday to me.

Some escaped his mouth, rolled down his stubbly square jaw, and dripped onto his yellowed, off-white wife beater but papa paid no mind to this. He released a rather loud sigh, whether from the burning pain of the strong liquid he so foolishly gulped at or from relief I could not tell, before slamming the bottle onto the table and sitting down across from me. His chocolate brown eyes stared hard at me from across the table with a fire burning in them I knew meant business. His dirty blonde mop of hair was starting to get rather shaggy, but I knew he wouldn't be leaving the house any time soon for a haircut. He stared at me, his eyes angry but not comprehending and I could tell that he could not make out who I was.

He blinked. Once, twice, three times, but I did not look away. I knew it'd just make what was to come ten times worse. I would wait. I felt a small glimmer of hope deep in my stomach that maybe this time he'd remember who I was, but I knew that there was no point. He looked deep into my sapphire eyes and his eyes hardened that little bit more. His eyes roamed over my honey brown mid-back length hair and his eyes became that little bit colder. He set his eyes onto my nose, mouth, and fair ivory skin and I could see the exact moment of recognition. Game, set, and match. Tonight's beating would be that much worse; vodka always made papa especially bitter.

Those eyes did not recognize me for me. They recognized me as Adette, my mother. I have her eyes, her mouth, her hair, her fair complexion. I guess the only differences between me and Adette are that I'm not a cheating whore who abandoned her daughter with an abusive alcoholic.

Papa stood, slamming his hands down on the little wooden table we sat at. He stood so fast that the wooden stool he had been sitting at flew out from under him and skidded to the other side of the kitchen, where my German shepherd named Cowboy sat with caramel eyes full of dread. I chanced a glance at him and smiled apologetically, knowing that he would undoubtedly suffer the fear of having to hear or see his master beaten. I had trained Cowboy not to try and protect me from papa; the first time papa had ever beat me Cowboy had stood and lunged at papa which earned him a good kick to the ribs. He had recovered, thankfully, but when I took him for walks he would be wary of men, and I knew that he would never trust a man again.

I would never trust anyone easily again. There were a few people who had managed to prove to me that I could trust them. Julia, who lived far away on the Sunshine Islands, and Gray who worked at the local farm in Mineral Town. **(A/N: Okay so I forget which game Gray was in and what town and all but let's pretend he was in Mineral Town okay because I really love Gray. I write these stories when I'm at my house, which has no internet, so I can't look it up right now and I don't think it'd kill anyone for him to be moved to Mineral town seeing as he isn't actually going to be in the story more than a few times.)**

Papa was not merciful, but I didn't expect him to be. It was a flurry of hands and feet; a well placed kick to my stomach, a fist across my face, his hands pulling on my long hair that he wouldn't let me cut. When it was all over I could feel that my ankle was badly bruised if not broken, and so was my nose. I could feel blood pouring down my head from a gash on my forehead where he had caught me with his unclipped nails. I was lucky. Papa seemed tired for whatever reason and hadn't been putting in enough effort to break bones, so I was in much better shape than anticipated. Once papa had deemed his job done, which was usually determined by when I started crying or couldn't get up any more, he sauntered back up those rickety old stairs and into one of the rooms upstairs.

Crawling with all my might, I made it over to Cowboy. His sad caramel eyes fell on me with an obvious broken heart and he nuzzled gently against me, licking the gash on my temple. Quietly, just as I had trained him to do, he walked over to the stack of towels in the kitchen and brought me over one that already had red rusty stains. I smiled up at him; if it wasn't for Cowboy I probably would've lost it after the first few beatings. And if it wasn't for Cowboy, I wouldn't be alive. Shakily, I got to work cleaning up the blood on the floor. Luckily today's beating hadn't involved weapons and there was barely any blood or open wounds, though I knew I'd have a wide array of bruises and tissue damage. Once that was all done I forced myself to stand, steadying myself on the greasy counter. Cowboy stood by my side, looking up at me with a gaze that said _'You sure you should be gettin' up?' _I always imagined Cowboy would have a southern accent, since I was partial to southern drawl. It just struck a chord in my heart, which was why I tended to avoid men with southern accents. They were too easy to trust. I smiled down at him weakly and patted his head, and he let out a low whine and a grumble before going back to his place in the kitchen on his dog bed.

The tears fell. And they didn't stop, even as I sat silently at that same wooden table and pretended I was okay. It was always like this. If I cried too loud papa would come back and hit me around some more. All I could think about was where my life was going. Was this really all there was to life for me? Was this all I would ever have? As if it was a god sent, my phone, which sat idly on the counter, lit up with a notification. Flipping it open, I saw that it was from Julia. Me and Julia were fairly close; though I had told her a lot of what went on she didn't know the whole story.

_'__Happy bday Chels. Ur already 20, I can't believe it! U ok? I was tlking to mama and she said if U want we could let you move in here on the islands. U r 20 now, ur old enough to make ur own decisions. Plz think about it, we're worried about u Chels. Took me lots of fussin to get her to agree without telling her the whole thing. I just told her u were gettin bullied by some kids, she doesn't kno bout ur dad.'_

I smiled down at the text. Good ol' Julia and her text language. Lately Julia had been pushing me to just up and leave my father, but I always felt a string of pity for him, as well as a fear that if he caught me on my way out the door my eyes would never open again. Hell, he was so devastated that his wife cheated on him that he gets drunk every night to the point where he doesn't even recognize his own daughter. It was sad, frankly. And also, I would be no better than that low down dirty bitch for leaving my father. But I knew that I couldn't just let myself get killed by him. I couldn't just sit here and wait for life to come to me. I couldn't take it sitting down. So I picked up my phone and my fingers flew over the keys.

_'__I think I might just take you up on that, Jules. I'm leaving now, and taking half of the money in his wallet since he left it out like always. I'm taking the first ferry I can your way. I'm bringing Cowboy, he can't stay here with papa. See you tomorrow morning.'_


	2. Chapter 2

I sat on the deck of the boat and watched Mineral Town become nothing but a dot on the horizon. Cowboy sat obediently at my side, silent and stoic, and watched everything he'd ever known disappear. He didn't look frazzled in the least, and for that I was grateful. My nerves were screaming at me to move, to make the boat turn around and take me back to the only place I'd ever known, but with Cowboy at my side being calm and relaxed I was able to keep myself grounded. It was starting to get rather dark out, too hard to see, and if it wasn't for the lights in Mineral Town nobody would be able to tell if we were moving towards or away from someplace. I watched until it disappeared from my sight, and it finally fell onto my shoulders.

I had escaped from papa. I had left him. And he wasn't gonna be happy.

I had left him a note against my better judgment. It was rushed; a simple three sentence informal letter scrawled carelessly onto a sky blue sticky note and stuck to his liquor cabinet door, but it got the point across fairly effectively if he could even read it in his drunken state.

_'I'm leaving Papa. I can't take it anymore. Don't look for me._

_-Chelsea, not Adette.'_

A part of me wondered if he'd even care, but I squashed it down like a bug. Of course papa would care. Underneath all those nasty words, he really did love me and I knew that. It wasn't me he was angry at, not yet at least. It was Adette. But I did blame myself partly for her leaving. She hadn't wanted kids; I was a mistake. An accident. A consequence from the heat of the moment. So maybe Papa did blame me too? That's what I thought.

But as I watched everything fade away into the night; heard the water lap against the boat and felt Cowboy's warmth by my side, I couldn't bring myself to want to turn back ever again. I loved papa, or rather, had loved him once. Part of me would always hate him for doing what he did to me. Regardless of his pain and woe, he had a daughter to take care of and he let me down.

had taken good care of me and patched me up nice before I left. My ankle was surprisingly only bruised beyond belief, although my nose was in fact broken. All other damage was tissue damage and would heal on its own, though I had been prescribed a powerful pain medication for now. I had told him I got in a fight with a friend and it got physical. He didn't seem to believe it, and I didn't blame him. After all, my only friends were Julia who lived hours away and Gray who'd never hit a woman- especially me.

Sighing, I made my way to my cabin with Cowboy at my heels and a small crimson rucksack slung over my shoulder. I didn't bring much with me, seeing as there wasn't much to bring to begin with. I had changed out of the skeety tank top and miniskirt papa always made me wear and into mid-thigh length denim shorts, a yellow Shirt with elbow length sleeves, and an orange, short-sleeved wind breaker. On my feet were a pair of red rubber boots and on my head was my favorite red bandana that my grandma had given me before she passed. Grandma was the only one in the world who had ever told me they loved me and meant it. I wondered, idly as I turned my key into the lock on my cabin door, if grandma looked down at me from up in heaven and smiled approvingly at my choice.

Stepping quietly into my cabin I felt tears burning in my eyes but I stubbornly didn't let them fall. I couldn't cover up all the bruises that littered my body like tattoos. I knew that they'd be a week or so healing, so until then I'd just avoid the stares people were sure to cast my way and ignore anyone who asked about them. Sighing to myself, I fell onto the single bed in the cabin. Cowboy jumped up and lay beside me, something he didn't normally do unless he could tell I needed the comfort of a living, breathing soul. The ship rocked back and forth gently as I wrapped my arms around Cowboy and nuzzled into his chest, inhaling the earthy, animal smell he always had. It was comforting to me; it let me know I wasn't alone no matter who turned their backs on me. Cowboy would never leave me on purpose.

I must've fallen asleep like that because the next thing I knew the sun was pouring through the window in my cabin and stirring me from my rest. Cowboy was now lying on the floor by my bed, and as I shifted to sit up so did he, his gentle eyes never leaving me. I smiled down at him and swung my legs over the side of the bed, yawning and stretching.

"Good morning, Cowboy." I greeted him in between yawns. He gave a small yawn of his own and I couldn't help but giggle at him. Standing, I spared a glance over at the alarm clock on the bed-side table. It read 7am, which meant one more hour until we'd be docking at Sunshine Islands. Smiling to myself, I snatched up my rucksack from beside my bed and pulled Cowboy's leash out of it. Snapping it to his orange leather collar I pulled him out the door to our cabin and we walked up to the deck together.

There seemed to be more people on the deck than there was last night, which was understandable seeing as it was quite late when I boarded. I felt a bit self conscious of the bruises on my face, neck, arms, and legs but plastered on a smile and sat down in one of the deck chairs with Cowboy at my side. Many people spared glances my way which I met without hesitation. I saw an assortment of looks thrown my way; disgust, pity, curiosity, anger, and even one look of slight understanding from an older woman to which I smiled sadly and she nodded before looking away. Looking out to the sea I saw the island coming into view and stood, checking to make sure I had everything I had brought. Once I was sure I hadn't forgotten anything I gave myself a once over before nodding to myself and standing towards where we were meant to get off once we boarded.

"Attention all passengers!" a cheery voice called over the intercom, "We are now boarding Sunshine Islands. All passengers wishing to get off at this stop are asked to retrieve any and all luggage they've brought and prepare to get off." I smiled as the boat came to a halt moments later and walked off of it without a glance behind me. Nobody else was getting off anyway.

Looking around my breath seemed to leave me. The scenery was stunning, nothing like the sad, deserted look of Mineral Town. The beach was covered with snow white sand and the water that lapped up to meet it was an aquamarine blue. I could see a quaint, homely looking town just up the path from the beach but was stopped in my searching when I saw two figures coming down the path; one sprinting and the other taking it's time.

I knew that face anywhere. That wavy blonde hair like sunshine and those big blue eyes like the sky. She hadn't changed a bit since I had last seen her junior year of school. She wore a very short pair of dark blue daisy duke shorts, a revealing white cropped top with a light blue windbreaker jacket and a pair of tall white cowgirl boots completed her look. She was smiling wide; all of her big pearly white teeth showing as she waved frantically at me.

I smiled big and waved both arms above my head at her, though it hurt tremendously to do so. All of the pain was lost on me in my momentary bliss. Julia was here, she wasn't kidding or joking, this was all real. And behind her was someone else I knew quite well. Her mother Mirabelle didn't look a day older than the last time I'd seen her. She was still a short, pudgy woman with bouncy, short, honey blonde hair and sparkling baby sky blue eyes with a winning smile. She wore a denim dress with a red shirt underneath and a pair of earrings dangled haphazardly from her ears like wind chimes.

I didn't have much more time to stare because I was wrapped in a pair of very feminine, very skinny arms and practically lifted off the ground in a bone crushing hug. Julia spun me around once and set me down, holding me at arm's length to give me a once over. She winced visibly at the bruises that covered me and her eyes seemed to become a bittersweet, darker blue.

"Chels, I'm so sorry he did that to you. You've gotten so pretty since Junior graduation, how could he bruise such a pretty face? This is the worst I've ever seen him do to you...it got worse after I left, didn't it?" Julia whispered in a sad, hushed tone, her eyes darting all over before staring deep into my own, darker blue eyes. I smiled sadly and nodded, giving her another hug before stepping out of her arms. She shook her head sadly and nodded, as if to tell me that we'd discuss it later but not in front of Mirabelle who had just finally caught up to us and stood beside her.

Cowboy barked happily up at Julia, obviously remembering her, and Julia seemed to just take notice of him because her eyes lit up like Christmas morning and she threw herself onto her knees to wrap her arms around him. He licked her face merrily and his fluffy brown tail wagged something fierce. I could tell he had missed her.

"And how are you, Cowboy? You're looking healthy as ever, maybe even a little pudgy! Chels' always did spoil you, huh boy? Thanks...for watching over her for me." she said to him, patting his head gently and standing back up to regain whatever dignity was left. Cowboy just grumbled playfully, before turning his attention to Mirabelle and yipping a greeting. Mirabelle smiled her million dollar smile at him before looking me over with a small frown, shaking her head gently and pulling me into her strong, loving arms for a gentle hug. I hugged her back and she let me go, before gesturing her head towards the path to town.

"Shall we get going then darlin'? You got a long days' unpackin' ahead of you." She drawled in her southern accent, smiling merrily. I nodded vigorously and pulled my rucksack higher up on my shoulders, looking up towards the town with a new sense of hope.

This was home now. I was finally free. No more hate, no more pain, no more alcohol breath and blood stains. Just me, Mirabelle, Julia, Cowboy, and the quaint little town to call home. A fresh start with a new makeshift family full of love and smiles and home cooked meals. A whole new me.

"Sure thing, Aunty Mirabelle." I said, and followed behind her as we walked up the beach and into town.


	3. Chapter 3

As we made our way up the path and through the town, I couldn't help but smile a little wider. The air was crisp and fresh; nothing like what I was used to. Even outside of my house in Mineral Town, the air was filled with an ashy, smoky haze from all the mining and factories that worked late into the night. And as for the inside of my house, well, it smelled like nothing short of a cheap bar for lost and broken souls to come and drink themselves to death. It smelled like bar fights, like alcohol, like blood and whiskey and sin. I felt myself being cleansed, if only slightly, by each breath of fresh country air my lungs greedily took in. The sun was shining on my face like a warm fireplace and I felt that maybe someday that warmth would reach my heart of ice.

Shaking myself of such sentimental thoughts, I realized we were now in front of what looked like the animal shop. It was made of a honey brown wood with bright red roof tiles and one horseshoe hung proudly from a nail in the door. I could smell the soft scent of hay as it filled my nostrils and I forced myself not to grin at the surprising feeling of familiarity it gave me. _Like I had been here all my life, like it was where I belonged._ I couldn't help but feel a calm wash over me; one that I hadn't felt in a long while.

Mirabelle gently pushed open the wooden door and a cowbell rang clearly from above it to alert anyone inside to our arrival. Our little party of three flooded into the shop, which consisted of a small living room type area, a kitchen, a large open shop area, and a hallway which lead far back to who-knows-where. Julia promptly sat at a stool which sat in front of a bar, on top of which sat a cash register. Mirabelle took her place behind the bar and typed away at the cash register, jotting things down onto a pad almost merrily. The woman loved her work.

To say I felt out of place would be an understatement. Julia, seeming to notice my nervous fidgeting as I stood in the middle of the shop looking hopelessly around, hopped of her stool and led me by the hand down the hall. We stopped at the second door down which she opened to reveal a burningly pink room which I could only hope was hers because if it was Mirabelle's I'd be a little worried.

"Alright now, that bed over there is yours! We're roomies now. The first door down the hall is the bathroom, and the third one, which is right after our room, is Vaughn's room...although he's only here Wednesdays and Thursdays." she said matter-of-factly, although I could hear giddiness in her voice. Upon the mention of another person, I turned and gave her a questioning look which she seemed to be expecting because she just waved her hand dismissively.

"Vaughn's my cousin. He transports animals here for us to sell. Seeing as today's a Thursday, he's probably in his room sulking. He's a real sour-puss." she said with a sour face. I blinked a few times, but when she did not elaborate I knew I'd have to see for myself. For the first time since being on the island I felt nervous; I didn't trust men anymore even though I knew that not all men were like papa. I wondered what Vaughn would be like, and if he would become a friend or a foe? There was a gentle knock at the door as Mirabelle announced that breakfast was ready and we should come down to eat. I smiled softly at the thought. How long had it been since someone had made me a meal? I couldn't remember. Julia stood and walked to the door, looking back at me quizzically when I didn't follow.

"You comin', Chels?" she asked. Her blue eyes seemed to shine with a slight worry at my tentativeness.

Smiling, I replied "Yeah, just give me a minute to unpack and I'll be right down." before turning and setting my ruby red rucksack on my bed. She must have heard me because soon after I heard the door shut quietly and the clack of her white cowgirl boots started to fade down the hall. I heard another, louder pair of boots sound down the hall and past the door. The person seemed to be almost stomping.

'Vaughn, I bet.' I thought. It took me about 10 minutes to unpack, and after I stood for another few just staring around the room that I could now call my own. I brought few decorations with me, only a red glass horse my grandma had bought me and a picture of a 7 year old me holding a little orange kitten with a purple bow on its collar in a little wooden frame. Grandma had takent hat picture of me when we visited the animal shelter to adopt Cowboy. Grandma and me both had a love of the color red, or really any warm colors. I smiled, turning on my heel and heading down the hall with Cowboy hot on my trail.

As I entered the kitchen area everyone seemed to look up at me, and I nodded politely at them before turning to Mirabelle. In my hand I held the big red dog bowl that Cowboy ate out of, which was also his present from grandma and the only thing of his I'd brought aside from necessities.

I hadn't noticed the man in the chair.

"Say, Mirabelle, do you mind if I feed Cowboy here some of your food today?" I asked politely. I heard a sputter, almost a choking sound, and a spoon clattered into a bowl noisily. Caught by surprise I turned and was astonished, to say the least, by the purple-eyed glare I received.

His silvery white hair fell down loosely just above his shoulders and a fringe of bangs covered one of his icy purple eyes. On his head a black Stetson sat proudly, accompanied by black and brown cowboy get-up that he wore. He looked tall, a well over 6 feet it seemed, and he had a muscular build although he also seemed skinny and lanky. There was an anger dancing in those deep purple orbs that nailed me to the spot. I couldn't help but realize that he was strangely beautiful when he was angry, but the fear in me of that look made my eyes widen and my hands quiver slightly. What had I done?

"'Scuse me?!" his voice growled angrily at me. His voice was deep and gruff with a twinge of southern accent, although I couldn't be sure to what extent based from the few words he had spoken. I felt myself physically step back from his direction and flinch. His tone scared me; it reminded me of papa, southern accent or not. I was terrified.

Finding my voice, I stuttered back "I-I'm sorry, did I d-do something wrong?" I could feel the fear in my voice and it took all of my energy not to raise my hand and just cover my mouth to keep more words from tumbling out. He seemed taken aback by my words, and his glare intensified as if he'd expected me to realize what I'd supposedly done. I heard a feral growl ripple from my side and I looked down with astonishment to see Cowboy's teeth bared at this man, his back arched and ready to spring. Quickly, dropping the thankfully plastic bowl to the floor noisily, I kneeled by his side and gently placed a hand on his head. He looked up at me with those sad but angry brown eyes and I shook my head sadly to tell him that it was okay. He let out a low whine but sat quietly and glared the purple-eyed man down from across the room.

Julia, who seemed to be very upset by the turn of events, stood and slammed her palms down on the table generating a loud banging sound. She glared at the silver haired man and jabbed a finger roughly into his chest.

"What the hell is your problem, Vaughn?! If you had been paying any attention to the clues, say for instance the dog bowl in her hands, you'd have realized that she was talking about her dog! Cowboy, her DOG! Not you! God, she just moved in and you already fucked up! You haven't even introduced yourself! You don't have any idea what you've just done, she already doesn't trust men and it's men like you, who yell and get violent, that remind her of-"

"Julia!" I cried, trying to make her be quiet before she spilled the beans. She gasped, realizing her slip, and sat down quietly while still glaring Vaughn down. Vaughn's eyes had been wide, but when he turned to me they narrowed as if he was examining every single bit of me. I saw his eyes travel over my skin and he winced at each and every bruise and cut and scar he saw, as if he'd only just now realized them. I had known for a long time how obvious these scars were. I could not hope to play them off as slips and falls. They were large, deep, and they stood out against my pale ivory skin like sore thumbs. Most of the cut marks were straight and obviously done by a knife. I could tell that he was confused, but he looked sad as well and I wondered if maybe, somehow, he already knew about papa or at least had an idea.

Standing, surprising myself with how fast my shaky legs could pick me up, I turned and ran from the room. I wanted to escape his judging and prying eyes. Stopping abruptly and looking Vaughn in the eyes one last time, I yelled out "I-I'm taking Cow-my dog- for a walk now! I'll be back s-soon!" and ran as fast as I could down the hall and into the room me and Julia shared. My mind was numbed as I pulled the leash out of my rucksack and snapped it onto Cowboy's collar. Cowboy seemed unfazed, and I wanted then and there to cry and hug him and thank him for being my anchor. Sighing, I let him lead me out the door and down the hall. I braced myself for what was to come.

The room was deadly silent as I walked past the kitchen, and nobody moved. I heard a chair scoot from behind the table and turned to see Vaughn standing, his long skinny legs ready to move towards me and his eyes not leaving mine. He looked ready to follow me, and I felt myself recoil by avoiding his eyes and stepping away from the entrance of the kitchen, but at that moment Julia gently grabbed his elbow and pulled him down.

"I think you've done enough. Leave her be for awhile." She muttered, as if she didn't want me to hear, but the sound still reached my ears. Not realizing I had stopped until then, I mentally kicked myself and continued my walk towards the front door. As I opened it and let myself out, I allowed myself to take one short glance back.

And in that moment, all I could register was the sadness and longing on his face that he was trying to hide behind his big black Stetson hat before the door closed fully behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

I had been walking around for some time before Cowboy seemed to get a bit tired. I had been walking blindly in any direction, down any open path I saw, and as I looked around I realized that I had walked in a large circle and made it back to the beach. My ankle throbbed deeply but I did not spare it even a thought- years of beatings had made me immune to physical pain. The weather here seemed to mimic my mood, and despite looking cheerful and sunny earlier, it had begun to sprinkle. Sighing, I sat down on the end of the dock and released Cowboy from the leash, letting him roam and explore this sandy territory while I let myself become absorbed in thought.

I had overreacted. I knew this much. Despite my past, it was a simple misunderstanding between me and Vaughn and I let him and my memories of my father overlap each other. Despite being a bit accusing and rude, the sadness I saw in him that he was trying to hide told me that he really was not what he tried to portray himself as. I should never have let myself compare my father and him; they were two separate people.

I had spent my life being recognized as someone I wasn't, and receiving someone else's punishment. I should've known better than anyone how it felt to be treated like somebody I wasn't. I was such a hypocrite.

Sighing, I put my head in my hands and took a shaky breath. How would I even begin to confront this situation? How could I explain myself to Vaughn without having to reveal my past to him? It was clear that he had an inkling of what had happened to me, but for the time being he was in the dark and I wanted to keep him that way. I couldn't let myself get close to him, or anyone else. People just got close to you to get what they wanted or to hurt you, and I didn't need any more of that. I just needed to distance myself from people for awhile, and maybe someday I'd come to miss the company perhaps, but until then it would be better if I didn't trust them to start with.

I had come to the islands with the full intention of changing; of becoming happy. But this new event had put everything into perspective. No matter where I went, no matter how far, no matter how hard I tried... people lacked the understanding that animals could give me and people were selfish. People were out to get somewhere, and getting somewhere meant leaving others behind. For someone to be on top, someone else has to be on bottom. And while I would never let myself be at the bottom again, I had no heart to push others around and make my way up. And even if by some miracle I met someone with a true heart... I didn't deserve it. I deserved to be alone, with few friends, because I was a coward and a hypocrite and I made my mom leave my dad.

"Maybe, if nothing else, I could just somehow not exist...I could be somewhere lower than the bottom where nobody would ever even notice me or recognize me as a threat to their status...I could never be a bother to anyone ever again..." I had muttered to myself quite loudly, and so lost in my thoughts had not realized the figure just behind me. But realizing I had muttered to myself I chuckled bitterly, still not recognizing the presence at my rear, and pulled off my bandana to ruffle chocolate brown locks.

"Pfft, if only that was possible. No matter how far I go, I can't escape the fact that I exist. I exist. I can't not exist no matter how hard I try." I said to myself clearly. To anybody else this would be a depressing thought, but to me it was liberating. I understood, if only vaguely, that if I had to exist I should try to do it the way I wanted. And if I wanted to live detached from the world, as close to nonexistence as possible, than that's what I'd do. I'd reach that low bottom, that spot where nobody would bother me and I could just...exist by not existing. And it was liberating to know that not existing entirely wasn't an option, because knowing this made me content existing if only a little.

Sometimes I wondered how my train of thought could always steer towards the bizarre and unusual. I wondered if anybody else had ever thought the same thoughts.

I heard a choked cough behind me and turned sharply, so quickly that I almost fell of the pier and had to steady myself. In my panicked state of mind I almost thought it'd be Vaughn, and was ready to bolt, but I softened my muscles only slightly when I saw someone who I had never met before. He looked about my age, maybe a few years older. He had curly, thick, dark brown hair secured by a purple bandana. His dark skin and chocolate brown eyes reminded me of hot chocolate or coffee in the slowly brightening morning hours. 'Round his waist was wrapped a purple plaid hoodie and on his shoulder sat a cute little bird, who peeked happily at me and seemed to dance with anticipation to meet me. The man had a look on his face I couldn't place; his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were dark but his mouth neither frowned nor smiled. It was held in a firm, straight line as if he was thinking deeply about something.

Without a word, he sat down beside me and cast a fishing pole over the front of the dock. For a few minutes neither of us spoke, besides his mutterings as he weighed or measured a fish he expertly reeled in. I didn't have to guess at it; this man was a pro and was probably a fisherman as his occupation. Suddenly, seeming to feel my questioning blue eyes on him, he turned and smiled at me though his eyes were still dark and sad.

"Hi there. Name's Denny, and this is my bird pal Kuu. I just moved here yesterday. I'm a fisherman. My house is just over there." He said, pointing in the direction of a beaten looking shack from inside which a warm light radiated. Smiling, I nodded and turned my face towards the sea as to not look him in the eyes. Kind or not, sad or not, he was a man and I didn't trust that concern in his eyes to be genuine.

Sighing, I said "Nice to meet you, Denny. My name's Chelsea. I also moved in here yesterday, what are the odds?" I made sure not to tell him where I was staying. Denny seemed to take all of this in, and his eyes became questioning once more. I didn't like the sincere looking concern on his face. It was foreign to me for a man to care.

"Huh, it's weird we moved in the same day. Maybe fate? But anyway though, what made you move here? You look like you're probably from the city, you got real light skin which don't seem to be darkened by country life quite yet." he chuckled at the last bit, and I bit down on my lip to keep myself from grinning as well, even when he had asked such a personal question. Looking down at my lap, I twiddled my thumbs nervously trying to formulate an appropriate but vague answer.

"Well... I don't really want to talk about it. Sorry." I muttered the last bit, hopping to give him the impression that I didn't wish to talk about myself right now. I saw understanding in his eyes and he nodded, before we lapsed back into that same comfortable silence. Suddenly I felt something wet press against my arm and looking back I saw Cowboy glancing expectantly at me, as if to say _'What's the hold up? I'm bored, let's go somewhere!' _ Smiling back at him and locking his leash onto his collar, I stood. Denny also stood, which made me feel a bit uneasy, but at the same time I didn't think much of it. Denny seemed... kind, at least.

Silently we made our way to the entrance of the beach. Denny stopped, and I stopped too. I knew this is where we would say our goodbyes, if only for now.

"Well, uh, bye, Denny." I said nervously, just wanting to leave. I was so out of my comfort zone. He smiled understandingly at me and nodded, holding out his hand abruptly for me to shake. The action startled Cowboy though, and he almost immediately stood between me and Denny while releasing a very quiet growl of warning. It wasn't like the growl he had growled at Vaughn, which had been much more sure and threatening, but it was as if to say _'Look, I don't know you, and I don't trust you. Watch yourself and keep your hands off.'_

I had expected Denny to be frightened or at least glare at me for not controlling my animal, but instead his eyes looked down at Cowboy with a sadness before he looked back at me with a small smile that didn't light his eyes like before. He scratched the back of his head and glanced back down at Cowboy, holding out his hand for him to smell. Cowboy seemed wary, I could see it in his stance, but silently he leaned in and got a quick whiff of what Denny was all about. Seeming to accept this for now, Cowboy returned to my side though his eyes stayed on Denny with a protective gleam in them.

"I-I'm sorry Denny...he...he doesn't trust men." I said, subconsciously rubbing at the scar on my upper arm. Denny noticed this and looked at the scar with something in his eyes I'd never seen before turning around and waving as a goodbye. Smiling sadly, I accepted this response and was about to leave when his voice caught me and stopped me right then and there.

"By the way Chelsea, I heard what you were muttering to yourself, and if you ever need someone to talk to...well, I'm always here. I know how you feel, even if you wouldn't believe that. I'm willing to listen to even the smallest of problems, okay?" he said gently, and inside me I felt something move slightly. Like if even the tiniest bit, the stone wall around my heart had crumbled. I felt happy but guarded all at once. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted the wall to tumble down so easily. But the way Denny smiled, the way he seemed to genuinely care, had me feeling that maybe if only for today...things would be okay?

For the first time in his presence, I truly smiled. He had his back turned and didn't see it, as if he knew that I didn't want him to see me smile. _Not yet_.

"Th-thanks, Denny. I might just take you up on that, someday."

And with that we parted, me on my way to Mirabelle's and him back towards the pier. Neither of us looked back, **because we both knew we'd be seeing each other again.**


	5. Chapter 5

I stood nervously in front of the door to the animal shop. It'd been about an hour and a half since I'd left earlier after Vaughn and I's... run in. I was scared to go back in there and face them, though I'd never admit that if anyone asked. Sighing to myself, knowing it couldn't be helped, I swallowed my pride and a little bit of spit before pushing open the wooden door. The cowbell sounded of my arrival and I knew there was no sneaking by Mirabelle and Julia. Looking around, I saw Mirabelle tending the cash register and Julia was sitting in the kitchen, trying and failing to prepare what might have been lunch. There was a lot of dark, thick, billowing smoke.

Sighing, I let Cowboy off of his leash and marched up to Julia. Smiling, I patted her shoulder and gently pulled her away from the catastrophe before going to work cleaning the pan she'd been cooking what looked like tomato soup in. She at first seemed to want to protest but relinquished the chore of cooking lunch to me with a sigh, sitting herself at the table. I grinned back at her and she offered a soft smile back, before it melded down to a sad frown and she looked deep into my eyes for a moment.

"Chels'... you know, Vaughn isn't really as bad as he was acting... I-" she started, but I stopped her with a raise of my hand.

"No, Julia, I know that. I overreacted. I can tell he isn't a bad guy, I can see it in his eyes when I look at him. I just... he looked so angry and I... I just don't trust people anymore, Jules. 'Specially men." I said loudly at first, but tapered off to a whisper at the end. She nodded solemnly, seeming to understand, and we both sat in silence for awhile as I stirred the homemade cream of mushroom soup I was making to go over rice. Suddenly she shot up, smiling wide, and clapped her hands together to get my attention. Looking back, I tilted my head as if asking her to go on.

"I'll go get everyone around for lunch now! We haven't actually been able to eat a meal together yet...since, well you know. After all, eating a meal together is a good way to get closer and let bygones be bygones." she said. She seemed excited to finally sit down and eat, and briefly I wondered how long she'd been trying to make food, but I knew that she was actually excited because she wanted me and Vaughn to make up. I really did want to make up with him, but I could tell she wanted us to be friends and after seeing him lose his temper like that I wasn't so sure that was possible for me to do in my mental condition.

As I continued to stir the soup, and then pour it over the 4 bowls of rice that waited patiently beside me, I hadn't realized everyone piling in to the kitchen and sitting down at the table. But as I turned, two bowls in hand ready to be placed at the table, I saw that the gang was all here and waiting patiently for the food. I felt slightly nervous. Nobody had ever eaten my cooking besides me and papa, and while I found it decent, papa always complained that _"Adette... 's too hot..."_ and _"Adette y'know I dun like this shit!"_

I avoided their eyes as I placed bowls in front of each of them, being extra careful not to look up when I placed a bowl where Vaughn would be sitting. Julia had told me a while back about how she found it funny that everyone had their own assigned seats at the table, and after seeing where Vaughn had sat this morning I knew he'd be there. I untied the little pink apron from around my waist and pulled it off, slinging it over the back of my chair before sitting down quietly and popping a forkful of mushroom rice into my mouth. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until now, though I had skipped breakfast and should've known.

Looking around for Cowboy, just to check on him and make sure he wasn't still glaring daggers at Vaughn, I smiled happily when I noticed that someone had filled his red bowl with kibble and he was happily munching away. Seeming to feel my gaze he looked up at me, and his tail wagged a few times before he returned to eating. I could feel the smile get wider on my face, thinking that this was the happiest I had seen Cowboy in years, before turning back to the scene in front of me only to see Vaughn watching our exchange from a few seats down. I could swear there was a small smile on his face and his cheeks had colored but before I could be sure, he'd seen that I'd caught him and he pulled his hat over his face, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

I just quietly began to eat again, listening to Mirabelle and Julia chat animatedly to one another and occasionally receiving a comment from Vaughn or a grunt of some sorts. I didn't really feel right including myself in their banter. I was a guest in some respects and though I knew both of them well it had been a long while since I'd really sat down and had a long chat like this with them.

I missed it, not that I'd say anything about that to them. I felt a little bit lonely on my end of the table but I was lucky to even be here and relented myself to existing by not existing.

"So, uh, we aint really introduced ourselves yet, I guess. Name's Vaughn, and 'm sure Julia already yapped to ya all 'bout why 'm here but I transport animals from the city ta this island. 'M only here Wednesdays 'n Thursdays but I live here." I heard a gruff voice calling to me from down the table. I did all I could not to grin at Vaughn's southern drawl, it reminded me of Gray. Really, a lot about him reminded me of Gray, not that I'd noticed before then.

Readying myself for what could be coming, I replied "Y-yeah, I guess you're right. My name's Chelsea." I said. I was careful to reveal nothing to him but my name. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate him making an effort but I couldn't get the picture from this morning out of my head; his angry eyes narrowed and his posture stiff and coiled like a snake ready to strike. I scratched the back of my head, and finally let myself look up from my bowl of rice to look at him properly. I guess in the fear of that morning I hadn't noticed how ruggedly handsome he was, with his strong jaw and defined nose, silky looking hair, and those beautiful eyes that just looked at you and into you and out the back and then left you dizzy. Most girls would have blushed or been happy to meet someone so gorgeous but I had been angry, with myself, for even thinking that way. Men were scary creatures and no matter how 'easy on the eyes', they were danger.

**Red flag, dead-end, make a U-turn immediately.**

I did my best not to flinch, but then immediately returned my eyes to my rice, picking half-heartedly at it with a fork. Whether it be out of habit, routine, or _"Adette, yer gettin' kinda plump. You s-should lose some weight, ya cow!"_ I'm not sure, but looking down at my bowl and finding it half empty I felt disgusted with myself for eating so much. Surely I'd be gaining weight, and nobody wanted to see that. The food suddenly felt very heavy in my stomach, like a lump of iron. But I'd had my fair share of making myself throw up, and I'd endure, if only this once. I would let it digest and disappear into my body like all the other food. I'd just remember not to be so careless next time around.

"Chelsea, dear, what's wrong? You're hardly touchin' your food." I heard Mirabelle ask me worriedly, and I just shook my head staring down at the half empty bowl of rice. Julia also seemed worried, and I knew that for once she didn't know the truth behind this. I hadn't told her about my eating related problems.

"No, Mirabelle, I'm alright. Nothing's wrong. I'm just…full." I said, standing out of my chair. I quietly picked up my little blue bowl and placed it in the fridge carefully. I heard Mirabelle chuckle and looked over to her questioningly.

"Oh, dear, you should just dump the rice. It'll go bad before you get to it, and we can always get s'more." She said, smiling. I felt doubt inside me but nodded, slowly removing the bowl of rice and regretfully emptying its contents into the garbage before putting my bowl in the sink. I could remember days when I went without food as a child because papa was too drunk to go out and shop, and I was too young to go shopping by myself, so I had developed a bit of a habit to save leftovers and make myself eat them later.

Suddenly Vaughn stood as well and set his bowl in the sink with mine, before turning to me with a frown on his face. He looked away and muttered quietly "Uh, could we talk? In private?" before beginning to walk out of the room. I assumed he wanted me to follow so we could talk. Although reluctant to go somewhere, alone, with a scary man, I followed behind him. Cowboy followed behind me but I knew better than to let him come. Should Vaughn try anything I wouldn't want him hurt, though I didn't think Vaughn would. Plus, he and Vaughn weren't exactly on good terms. So, motioning him for stay, which he did reluctantly, me and Vaughn continued on. He led me to the end of the hall and we just stood there, in the dim hall, while he seemed to be thinking deeply about how to word what I knew would be an apology. Sighing, he pulled his hat off and ruffled his starlight colored hair before placing it back on his head.

"Look, Chelsea," he started, " 'M sorry 'bout this mornin'. I was... quick ta accuse ya, and much more forceful than I needed ta be. I guess I didn't make a very good first impression, but I... 'm not trying to be mean, or a bad person. I just... 'm just a little anti-social, and I got a temper that I been try'na fix, but I got a ways to go with that I guess. So 'm sorry for that." he stopped then, looking expectantly at me. I smiled gently up at him, since he towered over me like a sky scraper.

"No, Vaughn, don't apologize. I overreacted, and I'm the one who should be apologizing, although I... I would like it if you didn't treat me that way again. And I know you aren't bad, I can tell. You wouldn't be apologizing if you were a bad guy. And I... look, Vaughn, don't apologize for being... the way you are, okay? Everyone has their reasons for how they act and... even if it sometimes hurts my feelings or scares me, you are who you are and I don't like people who try to be someone they aren't." I replied, looking down at my shoes. The red rubber shone in the dim light like a candle. He was quiet for a very long time after that, and I thought maybe he was done talking to me and wanted me to leave, but suddenly I felt his hand clasp gently on my shoulder and looked up, startled. He had a sad look in his eyes and he smiled a little smile down at me. I felt my heart beat a little bit faster, even though his hand on my shoulder was_ just a little bit too close to my neck_. For some strange reason, I wanted to reach out and touch his face. I forced myself not to.

"Thanks, Chelsea. Nobody... nobody has really ever said somethin' like that ta me. Most people just...avoid me, I guess. I guess somethin' 'bout me just rubs 'em the wrong way. I..." He trailed off, looking deep in thought as he released me from his grasp. Somehow I knew that this side of Vaughn was one he didn't show to many people, and I knew then that even if he had a temper he... I could trust him, a little bit at least. He was trusting me with this piece of him, so I'd trust him with a small piece of myself too.

"Well, ya know Vaughn, maybe you could smile more? At least, if you feel happy or even just content. Don't smile if you don't feel happy... I... sorry, I'm babbling, hehe." I said back, scratching the back of my head and trying to hide the small blush on my cheeks from babbling on like I had. He looked surprised at first, but then a sour look came onto his face.

"Smile? What's the deal 'bout smiling, anyway? Everyone here is always so smiley..." he said, grumbling a bit. I chuckled and he glared halfheartedly at me, but I saw his lips twitch like he was trying not to smile.

"Well, Vaughn, people would find you a bit less intimidating and I... I think, that I'd like to see you smile more. I... I'd like you to be happy. I guess...that since Julia considers you like family, and we'll both be living here together for a few days a week, I... I wouldn't want you to be sad or angry, especially because of me...I...oh...I uh...nevermind!" I said, looking down at my boots that seemed to match my face, now. Peeking up at him through my eyelashes, I saw a flustered look on his face before he pulled his hat over his eyes again and seemed to return to being emotionless Vaughn. But a little smile was there on his lips, and it made me happy to see it.

"Well, I'll be danged. Nobody's ever asked ta see me smile before...I...thanks." he said, tipping his hat at me once before turning around and opening the door to his room. I hadn't noticed we were in front of his room until then. He was closing his door but stopped, suddenly, and turned on the heel of his brown cowboy boots to look me in the eye one last time. I wondered idly why I felt a shiver run up my spine every time he looked at me with that much intensity.

_"_And, y'know...I...well, I can tell...that somethin' is botherin' ya. And..." he said, motioning towards my bruises and scars, and then said "if ya ever want ta talk ta someone 'bout it, 'm here... O-only because ya did the same fer me!" before his door shut completely and left me standing there with a brilliant smile on my face.

For some reason, when I really thought about it, I thought that if anyone I'd tell Vaughn. Briefly Denny flashed in my mind, but... Vaughn was... different.


	6. Chapter 6

After Vaughn and I's little talk I spent the rest of the day trying to wipe the stupid smile off my face. Cowboy had been eager for my return and had promptly checked me over, sniffing and walking around me a few times, but after he realized nothing was wrong he wagged his tail happily and licked my hand before lying at the foot of the couch. He didn't really move for the rest of the day; just watching people do their work and keeping a close eye on me.

A whole season passed without much event. Me and Vaughn always hung out when he was there, and we quickly became close friends. Vaughn could have his rude, cold, blunt moments but he was unique in that way and I wasn't gonna try and change him. Sometimes we'd take walks in the forest and play with the pack of dogs there, or go to the beach and just sit in the sand in comfortable silence, but most of our time together was spent in the back room with the animals at Mirabelle's. Vaughn had proved to be someone I could trust many times by simply giving me space when I needed and seeming to understand that there were lots of things I didn't like to share. Me and Denny sometimes hung out at the docks and fished together, but I was still wary of him. More often than not Vaughn found a way to keep me from visiting Denny. He'd say he needed help with the animals, or that he was hungry and wanted me to cook some sort of desert for him. I knew that Vaughn wasn't the type to ask for help or make someone cook for him. It made me wary of Denny and kept me from trusting him 100%. I mean, the only reason Vaughn would keep me from Denny was that Denny was dangerous... right?

It was a Wednesday in late fall, and I was sitting on the couch with Cowboy at my feet when a blonde kid had walked in to the store. He had a baseball cap turned sideways, and a big blonde tuft of hair hung in his face from the hole in the hat. He had big green eyes, the greenest I had seen before, and he smiled so wide that it hurt me to look at it. He wore overalls and around his neck was a little red kerchief.

_And for some reason, I didn't like him from the moment he smiled. _

He had introduced himself to me as Mark, the rancher from up north, and had shaken my hand rather roughly in a way that made me flinch back. He had asked very loudly about my reaction, to which I had snapped at him and just said "none of your business." I didn't understand why Vaughn chuckled at that response, but I didn't ask either. Soon after Mark had left, never saying anything else to me but sending strange, approving looks my way that I didn't understand.

As soon as Mark was out the door I flopped back down on the couch, resting my head on the back of it, and let out a little growl. I rubbed my hand and wrist angrily, as they were throbbing and even swelling a bit due to not being healed fully and then being jostled like that. Almost everything had healed by now besides my nose that was still in the process of mending the bone, but my wrist seemed to be taking longer which I concluded was because papa had gripped me especially tight there during his beating and that bruise was deeper than the others. Maybe the bone was even cracked or moved and had missed it? I sighed loudly and closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything else but the pain. I heard Vaughn in the kitchen, shuffling around and opening cupboards, and I heard Mirabelle typing away at a calculator and scribbling things down on a notepad, but I knew Julia wasn't there because she was on a date with that Elliot kid from next door.

She had already taken me all around and introduced me to everyone, besides Denny who I greeted with a small smile and told her we'd already met, and Mark who had been on a trip to the city; that was why I hadn't met him before. I didn't like the look she had given me, like she thought something way up between me and him. As if, she knew how I felt about men. Not that I really swung towards women, either. Asexual? Maybe. But I do remember a few people standing out to me. I really didn't like that Will guy, or that Lanna. Will was too... touchy feely. And Lanna, too loud and sunny. Julia was about the limit of that I could take in my life. But when Julia blushed at Elliot I knew something was up with them. Elliot was nice, and she didn't have to ask if I approved anyway, though I did. Natalie and I got on quite well, and I agreed that every Friday we'd go down to the diner and eat lunch together. Me and her just clicked somehow, her with her cynical attitude and me with my quiet, closed off tendencies.

I was thinking of that Sabrina girl, who had given me a very dark look and even called me a dirty peasant under her breath for no reason when she heard I was living with Julia, when I felt something cold on my throbbing hand. Sitting up, I looked down at my hand which now had an icepack on it. Looking up, I saw Vaughn standing there with a small smile on his face that he was obviously trying to get rid of. For some reason, his eyes were so soft and warm. He just stared into my eyes for a long time and I couldn't look away from those eyes either. Suddenly he made a strange, startled noise and blushed, pulling his hat over his face rather roughly. I gave him a questioning look but he just shrugged and walked away.

I heard a little gasp and looked over to see Mirabelle staring at Vaughn and then looking back to me with a surprised expression. I raised my eyebrow at her and she just blinked a couple times before smiling and going back to her work. It was strange. Was there something I did? Shifting to lay back again, I heard something rattle from my side and looked over to see a bottle of pain pills on the couch cushion next to me. I noticed there was a glass of milk on the table as well.

"That sneaky bastard." I mumbled, chuckling and popping two of the pills then downing the glass of milk. I looked out the window, noticing it was starting to get dark. Maybe 5:00 or 6:00? I stood, bending backwards to crack my back, then stood up straight and walked up to the little bar Mirabelle was working busily behind.

"Hey, Mirabelle, do you want me to make dinner? Is there anything in particular you wanted to eat? You still look a little swamped with work and I'm not sure what Vaughn's up to but he's probably still busy as a bee, so... since, I um, live here now, I suppose I could pitch in and help around a little bit. We never really talked about how I would make up for what you guys did for me, letting me stay here. I'm very...grateful, and I don't want to be a bother...so..." I said, smiling down at my shoes and playing with my fingers. Looking up, I saw her beaming at me merrily and she nodded, reaching over the counter to pat my head.

"How 'bout stew for supper? And could you make dessert, too? But hun, there aint no need for you to pay me back. The shop's been doin' great, and we're way ahead when it comes to the money, so it wasn't any bother havin' you come here. It would be nice if sometimes you helped clean and cook though, you really are an excellent cook and I can tell everyone agrees with me, even that grumpy ol' Vaughn." She said, chuckling when she heard a grumble come from another room. Nodding and trying to keep myself from laughing, I turned on my heel to head into the kitchen. I passed by Vaughn on the way there and stopped him to talk.

"Hey, Vaughn! You're still workin' hard, I see. You like stew, right grumpy?" I said, smiling when he looked up at me and grinned slightly. He set down the bag of feed he was carrying onto the pile he had already moved and turned to me, taking off his hat to run a hand through his silver hair and sigh before putting it back on.

"Yeah, stew's fine. But uh...I don't like carrots...so it'd be nice if they weren't in it...if that aint a bother, anyway." He said, looking down at me with a small grimace as he thought of carrots. I just laughed and shook my head, crossing my arms playfully and poking him in the arm.

"Oh? Big bad Vaughn, afraid to eat his veggies?" I said, glaring playfully up at him. He seemed surprised by what I'd said, and I knew that it was due to not only being teased, but me actually going out of my way to be playful and talkative when he knew I was normally timid and easily spooked. He smirked down at me and shook his head, moving to pick up another bag of feed to add to his pile.

"Aint nothin' wrong with not likin' carrots, missy. Say, aint you got supper to be makin' instead of sittin' 'round here teasin' a workin' man?" he said in retort, and I replied by sticking my tongue out and making my way to the kitchen. But I stopped, remembering something, and turned to him again although now I was some distance away.

"Uh, Vaughn?" I called to him, and he stopped to look at me with his eye brow raised. He looked at me with those warm purple eyes and I felt the strangest flutter of feeling in my stomach but thought nothing of it.

"Uh...thank you, for the icepack...and the pills. That was...kind." I said, scratching the back of my head and smiling a little at him. He looked a little flustered, but then he just grunted in reply and turned back to his work. Taking this as a "you're welcome", I turned back around and made my way into the kitchen.

**A/N: I know things have been going kinda slow plot-wise but have no fear! It'll be speeding up soon enough. Sorry if Vaughn seems a bit...OOC here with his kind gestures, but he and Chelsea are those kinds of people who get along and warm up to each other fast because they understand each other well. You'll see why in later chapters, anyway. Besides, I know lots of anti-social people who just have that one person they seem to warm up to right away, so I don't think it's not possible for Vaughn to be that way too.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Everything was silent in the house. Thunder and lightning crashed dangerously close by, just outside the window as my bare feet moved silently along the cool, rusty-brown stained linoleum. I could feel him behind me. He was so close that I could feel him loom over me. I tried to move away but his large hands quickly found my shoulders, resting there and massaging gently as he leaned down to whisper breathily into my ear. His breath smelled like whiskey tonight. _

_"Say, Addette, yer up pretty late. How's about we fool around a bit, like old times, huh?" he said, lips brushing against my ear and his words huskily tumbling from him without restraint. His massaging hands left my shoulders and traveled down my back before resting on my bottom, which he gave a firm squeeze. I cried out in fear and surprise. _

_"P-Papa...what are you doing...?!" I whispered back in terror. He didn't respond verbally, only moving his hands from my bottom to snake around my waist. He pulled me in close against him and I felt a hardness press into my lower back from behind me. I shuddered as it slowly grinded against me and papa let out a breathy moan into my ear. He continued on with more force and when I didn't respond, frozen with fear and confusion, he growled low and turned me around in his arms, pinning me against the nearest wall. His hands found my wrists and gripped them painfully tight, pinning them above me as he dove in to kiss my neck. I knew my wrists would be bruised by tomorrow. He bit down gently at the junction between my shoulder and neck and I let out a surprised shriek when he applied more force, breaking the skin. He soon after licked over the new wound, relishing in my pained whimpers._

_"Now, see Adette? Yer mine. I aint sharin' ya ever again, ya dirty slut!" he yelled angrily, punching me in the stomach. From there he began his beating, punching and kicking anywhere he could reach until I was black and blue, bleeding and sobbing on the floor. Cowboy whimpered in the corner of the kitchen, mourning for me. Soon after that the world got dark and I lost consciousness._

_That was the first time papa ever got sexual with me, and it wouldn't be the last._

I shot up in bed, screaming louder than I ever thought I could. I quickly covered my mouth, as it was late and I didn't want to wake anyone. Sweat dripped down my face and I could feel myself shaking like a leaf as I stood, slipping on slippers as I opened the door to me and Julia's shared room. She was wide awake, staring at me with worried and questioning eyes. I smiled weakly back at her.

"Just a little nightmare Jules, I'm alright. Just gonna go get a drink and maybe snag a quick shower, then I'll be back." I said before leaving out of the bedroom door. She didn't follow me, for which I was glad. I really just needed to be alone.

My feet made little noise as they padded against the hardwood floor of the shop. The house was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside the windows. I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of milk shakily, before returning the bottle of milk to the fridge. With careful steps I walked back into the shop area and stood in front of the window, looking out at the sleepy village.

Everything was silent. Sighing, I made my way to the door, already having downed my glass of milk, and walked outside. I walked to a haystack that was sat just outside the door and sat on it. Instantly I felt a bare scratching at my legs and looking down, I realized I had left my room in nothing but a pair of panties and a band T-shirt that just barely reached mid-thigh. I blushed but didn't move- who would be up this late anyway?

It seemed like a long time I just sat there, staring up at the moon, before I heard the door to Mirabelle's squeak open carefully.

"Julia, I'm fine. I need to be alone right no-" I had started but stopped when next to me stood not Julia, or Mirabelle, but Vaughn. He was in a loose black T-shirt and dark green shorts that fell just below his knees. His hat was nowhere to be found, his shining silvery hair sticking up in a few places from the sleep I'd probably woken him from. I found myself wondering what it'd be like to run my fingers through his hair. Blushing, I pulled my shirt down farther to cover myself and he blushed a bit noticing my predicament as well, but he didn't comment and just sat on the ground beside the haystack I was on. He was silent for a long time, and for some reason his presence didn't bother me as much as Julia's probably would've.

"Nightmare, huh?" he muttered gruffly, looking up at me from where he sat. I was only a little bit taller than him due to our seating arrangements.

"Yeah." was all I said, and he seemed to accept this for he just nodded and looked up at the moon with me. We sat like that for a long while before suddenly I felt his eyes on me and looking down at him I noticed his eyes were very warm and worried, looking back into mine. Before I could even register what was going on I felt tears falling down my face and he stood quickly, sitting beside me on the small haystack and pulling me into his chest. He held me close as I cried into him, and he rested his head on top of mine gently, rubbing my back.

"It's alright, Chelsea. Everythin's gonna be okay now." He muttered into my hair, squeezing me a little before releasing me as my sobs turned into hiccups. Looking up at him I could see him smiling sadly down at me with those warm purple eyes I could get lost in. I smiled weakly up at him and we both turned our attention back to the moon, his hand resting comfortingly on my shoulder.

"...When I woke up to the sound of ya screamin'...I got pretty scared. I thought ya might be hurt. So I went to yer room to check on ya. But when I got there it was just Julia, sittin' up in her bed lookin' sad and worried. She said that ya had a nightmare...and that she was worried that it might've been 'bout yer past. I aint a man who repeats himself lots, and I aint meanin' to pry, but I just want ya t'know that when I said I'd be here to listen to yer troubles, I wasn't just sayin' it to be polite. I really will listen to ya, Chels'. Not that ya'd ever want ta talk to someone...'specially someone like me." He said, sounding dejected at the end. I felt a little guilty then. He was probably worried sick, hearing me scream like that and not knowing why. And had I really given him the impression that I didn't trust, or even care for him at all? Sure he'd scared me at first, but I could see now after getting close to him that it was just his way of protecting himself. In a way, I was doing the same. We were very similar people. So why wouldn't I tell 'someone like him?"

"Vaughn...why wouldn't I tell 'someone like you'? Despite our rough beginning, I feel like... we're very similar people. You're closer to me than you seem to think. If I was gonna talk to anyone about it, it'd be you. I'll get around to telling you sometime soon...but for now, I just want to sit here with you and look at the stars. I want everything to be simple and easy." I said resting my head on his shoulder and yawning slightly. I could see a small smile on his lips as he leaned back against the wall of the shop, letting out a wide yawn of his own. I knew we should probably go in now seeing as we were both tired but before I could even voice the thought he was lifting me up bridal style, blushing a bit as my shirt rode up and revealed my lack of pants, and taking me inside. Gently, after closing the door behind us, he laid me on the couch and pulled a blanket over me before tucking me in gently. The fact that even in my state of dress he didn't let his eyes wander or try to touch me only proved to me that he was someone I could trust.

Suddenly I was afraid to sleep, thinking that the nightmares would be back and I'd wake up there alone. Or that maybe it was all a dream and Vaughn had never said those sweet words to me. But seeming to sense that fear he sat on the ground in front of the couch, tilting his head back until it rested on the cushion right in front of my face.

"Don't worry, Chels'. I'll be here all night, makin' sure yer okay. I'll be here when ya wake up. I aint goin' nowhere." He whispered gently, seeming to know just what I wanted to hear. I could smell his shampoo and his hair was spilling out onto the couch cushion before me like rays of silver starlight. I found myself sleepily running my fingers through his hair, almost unconsciously. At first he stiffened up, and I was afraid he'd be upset, but then he closed his eyes and relaxed into my touch, a small smile on his face.

_The last thing I thought before falling asleep was that his hair was as soft as it looked._


	8. Chapter 8

The first things that registered to me when I woke up were that I could smell something delicious cooking and that there was something on my head. Sitting up and rubbing my eye sleepily with my fist, that something fell off my head into my lap. Surprised, I looked down at it.

And my face split into the biggest, goofiest smile.

Smile still in place, I lifted the hat up between my two hands to inspect it closer. It really was well crafted; made with a nice, firm black material and a brown leather belt around the base. Vaughn had a good eye for hats, I thought, though I really didn't know enough about cowboy hats to make that assumption. It gave me a strange feeling, being able to touch and hold something special to him.

Looking around the room, placing the hat back on my head and smiling when it smelled of hay and his shampoo, I could see no sign of the hats owner anywhere. Didn't he say he'd be here when I woke up? I would've been mad or even scared it'd been a dream, but he had left his hat behind for me, surely to dismiss those thoughts. Stretching my arms over my head and letting out a squeaky little yawn, I pulled myself out from under the green, fuzzy blanket and trudged my way into the kitchen where I assumed Mirabelle was cooking.

And standing in the doorway to the kitchen, the sight I was met with melted my heart.

Mirabelle was certainly not the one making breakfast today. No, there stood a tall silver haired cowboy (minus his hat) with his back turned to me, his arm moving slightly as he flipped what smelled and sounded like sizzling eggs. He was humming a low tune as he worked away at his culinary creation and I could hear the smile on his face in his tone. I could see the ties of a pink apron wrapped around his neck and waist, and I snickered to myself wondering how begrudgingly he had put it on.

I could almost see it now, him scowling down at the pink apron with a sour look on his face and looking left and right before sneaking it on, huffing to himself angrily.

Mirabelle and Julia seemed absent from this scene. I then remembered them saying something about going into the city to look for more buyers for their animals the day before, and them saying they wouldn't be back 'til the next day. So they wouldn't even be around until tomorrow. My sleepy mind hadn't remembered until then.

Grinning to myself, I quietly padded up behind him and quickly wrapped my arms around his torso, peeking around his side to look at the food he was cooking up. I relished in the small, definitely manly yelp he released along with his bright pink blush.

"Hey pinky, whatcha makin'?" I called out teasingly, although my voice was still thick from sleep. He glared down at me half-heartedly and I let go, backing up with my hands in the air defensively whilst giggling. He just shook his head and returned to cooking with a smile, though he suddenly blushed again and coughed, the smile disappearing.

"Makin' pancakes and eggs, and...shouldn't ya, y'know, uh... put on some pants...'er somethin'?" he said awkwardly, flipping an egg. Suddenly remembering my current state of dress, and blushing madly because _oh my god I ran up and hugged him half naked_, I quickly turned and left the room to go get dressed. I could only hope he hadn't been watching me leave because he'd be getting a nice view of my butt.

Returning to the kitchen, fully dressed and determined not to make a big deal out of the situation, I walked up behind him and placed his hat back on his head, although reluctant to return it to him. He didn't say anything but grunted happily at the return of his hat, which I could understand because without my bandana I sometimes felt a little exposed. I sat myself down at the table and yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes in an attempt to wake fully. I heard him chuckle as he walked over, placing a big plate of pancakes on the table along with a plate of eggs. Once he had everything on the table, including syrup, butter, strawberry jam, and a plate for him and I along with forks and knives, he sat at the seat across the table from me, for once breaking the usual seating arrangements seeing as nobody else was eating this morning. We both silently forked food items onto our plates. As I took the first bite, I wanted to die right then and there because the pancakes were just so good that anything else I would ever eat would be a disappointment in comparison. I shoveled food down, him chuckling quietly at my rushed eating but not commenting. I could see an amused, but pleased and happy smile on his face and I knew that somehow I didn't need to tell him what I thought of his cooking, because he seemed to already have read my signs.

It was quiet for awhile, just the sound of a fork or knife clanking against plates, before I decided to break the silence.

"Vaughn, okay, I'm serious. No lies. How in hell did you ever get to be so good at cooking?" I asked, staring him dead in the eyes and setting my eating utensils down to show I was prepared to listen to his answer. He just smiled and shook his head, his eyes seeming to look a little bit sadder for a moment before he looked out the window beside the table distantly.

"I... My mama always liked cookin', 'specially breakfast. And I always wanted ta help, 'cause mama always smiled so big when I offered ta help 'er. She always was a housewife. " he said quietly, setting his fork down and refusing to break his staring contest with the sky outside the window. I cringed inside.

She **_was_**_._

"... is she...?" I started, but didn't have the heart to finish. He seemed to understand what I was trying to say anyway.

"She's dead now. So is my pa. Killed in an armed robbery. I was 8. After that Mirabelle adopted me and I came ta live here." He said in a robotic voice, void of emotion. It was only then he looked at me, as if he wanted to gauge my reaction. I suddenly felt so full of sadness for him. I wondered so many things. Was he there to see it, what happened to him afterword, but I knew it was hard for him to talk about. I only wished something so tragic didn't have to happen to him.

He was trusting me with this piece of himself. And I'd trust him with a piece of me, too.

"Vaughn... that's horrible... I know it must be hard for you to share that with me. Thank you for trusting me with that piece of you ...and..." I stood, and he tensed as I made my way to him. I simply grabbed his sleeve and tugged childishly, looking at him and hoping he'd get the idea.

"C'mon... I think...I'd like to trust you with a piece of me, too." I said, smiling sadly. His eyes widened and he looked surprised, as if he hadn't been expecting anything like what he'd been told. But he then nodded solemnly and stood, following me out into the living room where he sat on the couch next to me and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it to reassure me I suppose. I sighed, toying with my fingers for a bit, before I finally mustered up what strength I could and met his eyes. Those sad, warm, understanding amethyst eyes I'd become so fond of.

"I... I was a mistake." I started and instantly he seemed sadder, "My parents didn't want a child. They just got lost in their own moment, and I was accidently created. My earliest memory... is my mother, Adette, standing in front of the doorway with her suitcases, telling me she was leaving and it was all my fault. I didn't understand what I'd done. Not then, not yet. But she was so angry, and her eyes were so full of anger and hatred, that I couldn't help but believe her. Wherever she was going, whatever she was leaving for, it was my fault. That's what I used to think, and I hated myself too... for awhile." I said, leaning back and hoping I could just melt into the back of the couch. Vaughn just listened quietly, soaking it all up like a sponge.

"After that, Papa got...violent. Turns out that Adette had left him for another man because she didn't want to deal with a kid. She just left me there...with Papa. Papa wasn't too bad at first. He almost seemed like he was fine. He didn't want a kid, but...he loved me. I know he did, I know he does! But then, the pressure of the divorce and the love of his life leaving him got to be too much... and he started to drink. Lots. He would get so drunk every night that he didn't think clearly. I look a lot like my mother, like a copy of her, and so when he got drunk and he would see me...he would think I was her. Even when I was young, it didn't stop him from seeing me as her." I said, and Vaughn pulled me in a little closer to him, one arm around my shoulders. I rested my head on his shoulder and he peered down at me with sad and slightly angry purple eyes. Those eyes didn't scare me this time...that anger was for somebody else.

"Papa...was, is, an angry drunk. He would see me as her, and beat me. Real bad. Sometimes I almost thought I was going to die. It was so...hard. I really did love my papa...I wish I could still love him, but I don't know if I can. After a few years of that, when I was 15, it got worse. He started to slowly slip further into his depression, and lose his mind. I... I remember it so clearly, the first time...the first time he..." Vaughn squeezed me a little tighter, and I took a deep breath, ready to drop the bomb.

"It was a dark, stormy night in late fall, the first time papa got sexual with me." I said so brokenly, that even I could hear the pain in my voice. Vaughn stiffened at my side, and looking up I could see a burning pain and anger in his eyes that he was trying to restrain. He did nothing to act on it, just pulled me in against his chest and ran his hands through my hair. It was enough to get me calm enough to carry on.

"That nightmare I had last night, was actually just the memory of that day playing in my head. It...he didn't ever go very far, back then. Just touched me, said some things that made me uncomfortable. But...it was enough to send me over the edge with him. I was so sad... and so scared... that I...I actually tried to kill myself, once." I whispered into Vaughn's chest, and he suddenly got very rigid. I could feel him trembling and I couldn't tell if it was from anger, sadness, or fear. I didn't ask.

"But...someone saved my life. Cowboy saved me from myself. I was going to...use a knife, to end it. I... I wasn't going to chicken out. Even thinking about it now makes me scared. I almost killed myself... I never would have met you, I never would have been able to come here. I almost died. But Cowboy stopped me, by just sitting beside me and nudging the knife out of my hands. Like he was just silently telling me that I couldn't do that, not when I had a life to live and he was there for me. He would miss me. I think so, anyway. And...even though I was really going to do it... I think I gave up pretty easy... because I wanted to live. I think that any reason was good enough as long as it made me believe I had a reason to stay. After that I never even thought about it again..." I said, wrapping my arms around Vaughn. He just gave me a small squeeze and rested his head on top of mine, which was enough to spur me on. I had originally planned to stop my story there and leave out the worst parts...but I really felt that Vaughn had the right to know. I wanted to tell him the whole truth.

"A-and then...After my 18th birthday, papa got even worse. He actually... started to rape me. It wasn't just touching and comments anymore. He really did it. Just like he said he would. He started calling me Adette, and talking to me like I was her. Before he would just not say any name. I don't think I ever heard him say my real name more than once, when he wasn't drunk. After I turned 19 he stopped going outside all together. He was always drunk. I had to get part time jobs to buy food and pay some of the bills. The other bills got paid by the government because he was unemployed and fought in the army. I lived like that until my 20th birthday, which was the day I left to come here. The very last time I ever saw papa, he beat me. He had vodka in him, that night. Happy birthday to me, right? The very first time he touched me, it was whiskey. And the very first time he raped me, it was a combination of lots of things from a bar he had visited. I... I just up and left, and took Cowboy with me. But even now, after I'm finally free, it haunts me. I don't trust men. I don't trust really anybody actually, but especially men. You, Denny, and my friend Gray back at home... are the only men I ever let get close to me. Ever. And... you're the only person in the world I fully trust... even though I'm not sure why that is." I said, breaking free from him a bit to look into his eyes. He looked so angry and sad for me, but there was a happiness there from my last words. I just smiled weakly and brushed his fringe out of his eyes to get a better look at his face. I could hear Cowboy whine sadly from his favorite spot at the end of the couch on the floor and I looked his way once, smiling to reassure him it was alright.

"Chels'... I don't know what ta say. I... I'm so unbelievably sorry, and sad fer ya. Yer so strong, it's crazy. I can't even...imagine... And you really trust me? Someone...like me?" he said, placing a hand on my shoulder gently. His eyes were wide, full of sadness and awe. I wished that I could just take it all away and see him smile again.

"Nobody but you knows the whole trust. You're the only one I have ever told the whole thing. Not evem Mirabelle knows. Julia knows some of it, but she doesn't know about... wait, I forgot to tell you that!" I said, suddenly remembering something I'd forgotten. He looked surprised, but nodded for me to continue. He looked curious but afraid of what he was going to hear.

"I sort of have a weird mindset when it comes to food. When I was young, there was never much food around. Sometimes I went hungry. So whatever leftovers I had I always saved. And now, out of habit, I sometimes feel the need to watch my food carefully and save what I have left. But at the same time, I.. well...papa always used to say things. Like, I was getting fat, or I ate too much, or I need to lose weight...and now, sometimes, I... nobody knows about it, but sometimes I don't eat or starve myself because I... I think I'm getting fat, and that someone will be disgusted by me. It's only when I have a bad day, or get into a fight, or am sad. I try to suck it up and just force it down, but then his voice rings in my head, and I start to believe it, too... and then the food just feels so heavy in my stomach, like it's ripping me apart, like it's poison..." I said quietly, looking away from him. I heard him growl low in his throat and suddenly he snatched me into his arms tightly, his forehead pressed against mine and his purple eyes looking into my own blue. His eyes were fierce, and angry, but also held that sadness in them that I hated to see. He looked ready to snap, but I could feel how fast his heart was beating and suddenly I could recognize the fear in his eyes.

Somewhere deeper in those beautiful violet eyes I could also see this strange emotion that I'd never seen.

"Now, ya listen here, Chelsea. Ya aint fat. Ya aint gonna get fat by eating healthy. Yer perfect just the way ya are. And don't ya ever let nobody tell ya otherwise. He was wrong. And if ya believe 'im, yer wrong too. I aint about to let ya starve yerself to death. I aint about to lose ya. 'Cause yer beautiful, and that's the truth. " He said matter-of-factly, a stern look on his face. I felt my cheeks warm at his words. Me? Beautiful? Did he really mean that? Surely he was kidding.

But before I could even think of a response, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

**A/N: Woo! This chapter got pretty long, eh? I try to keep my chapters around 1,500 words, but this one is 3,000ish words! Enjoy! **

**I'm just gonna take a moment here to apologize for all the apostrophes in Vaughn's speech and all. His southern dialect kinda calls for 'em. Sorry if I over do it with his southern accent, I've only met a few people who speak with a southern accent so I haven't got much to go by. I'm trying, though!**


	9. Chapter 9

His lips were gentle, soft, and warm as they covered mine. The only lips I'd ever felt on mine were papa's, and his were always rough, angry, and tasted like alcohol. I'd never known the gentle touch of a man before. I didn't know man's touch, his kiss, could be so... electrifying. So blissful. So...right.

I was so shocked by Vaughn's bold actions. He always shied away from close contact with anyone. We'd hug occasionally, and if I was down he'd be there to hold me, but never had he touched me in a romantic way. I'd never even considered touching him that way, either.

But when he froze, sensing that I wasn't kissing him back, and began to pull away while looking at me with sad and rejected eyes... I knew that I was right where I wanted to be. In his arms.

Maybe it was because I'd never known the love of a man, that I hadn't noticed it earlier. But when I stopped to think about it, about all the romance novels and gossip from the local village girls about their love lives...

He made my heart race when he smiled. My skin tingled when he touched it. My cheeks felt warm when he held me. I could get lost in his eyes. I was enchanted by his rough-and-tumble personality. His warmth made me feel so content.

"Chelsea...I-I'm sorry...I shouldn't have-" he started, but I didn't let him finish. Without a second thought I pushed my lips back onto his. At first he didn't respond, his pretty eyes wide with shock and surprise. But then those eyes closed, and he held me against him as his lips worked their magic over mine.

My heart beat that little bit faster. My cheeks felt warm. I felt dizzy with joy. The warmth of his body, his arms, encased me and made me feel like nothing could ever hurt me again. I could taste the sweet, saccharine syrup from this morning's breakfast on is lips. My hand found its way to his head and I pushed his hat off, running my fingers through his silky, soft silver hair. His hand came to my cheek, resting there gently as his thumb softly ran over the skin below my eye. And I was so happy, happier than I'd been in a long time.

When we finally broke apart he rested his forehead against mine and just stared into my eyes. His eyes glittered with a warmth I wasn't able to put a name to and he smiled that little, lopsided grin that made my heart flutter. I allowed my other hand to find its way to his head and I just ran my hands through his hair gently, trying to calm my beating heart. I could feel the silly smile on my lips as his breath fanned over them gently, smelling like syrup. We were both quiet, and his eyes were searching mine as if looking for an answer to a question he'd never asked. That alone was enough to send words tumbling ou of my mouth.

"I never knew that the touch of a man could be so gentle, or make me so... indescribably happy. I don't understand this feeling... the way my heart beats faster than ever when you're around, or the way I feel so warm and safe in your arms...but I do understand that nobody else makes me feel the way you do. So...don't apologize. I was just...surprised, and confused. But I know what I want now. I want to be close to you like this...all the time. To touch you and hear you say those sweet things to me. I...you...you make me feel like stumbling my way through all those terrible things was worth it, if it meant I could meet you. I just...think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met." I muttered to him, and he just smiled a little bit wider before rubbing his nose against mine and chuckling when I squeaked, blushing.

Suddenly he slid into a laying position on the couch, pulling me down with him until my head rested on his chest and the rest of my body fell between his legs. Stretching a little, he pulled the green blanket I had been using earlier off the floor and covered us with it, smiling. I snuggled a bit further into him and held him close to me with my arms, his own pair of arms wrapping around my torso and pulling me close against him as well. Chancing a glance up at him, he met my stare with his own, brushing a strand of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. I stretched up a bit, almost painfully, to place a delicate kiss on his jaw before collapsing back onto his chest and closing my eyes. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. He chuckled and shuffled a bit until he was comfortable, before releasing a happy sigh and rubbing soothing circles into my back. Being in his arms really was blissful.

"Let's just doze for a bit, Chels'. Ya woke up kinda late, so I already got my work done. I'll wake ya up when I wake up. Or, if ya wake up before me somehow, which I doubt, wake me up 'kay?" he said, and I could hear the humor in his voice. I just chuckled and nodded, too tired to speak, and allowed myself to drift off into a peaceful slumber. The last thing I felt before my consciousness slipped away was him placing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

The next time my eyes opened, the only thing I saw was a sea of purple. His eyes held a mischievous glint in them and suddenly I registered the feeling of his lips planted firmly on mine, his thumb and forefinger pinching my nose shut. My lungs screamed at me for air but all I could feel was the intense heat on my cheeks as I gently pushed him off, gasping desperately for air. I could hear him laughing. Actually laughing, not those muffled chuckles I was so used to. The sound was beautiful. Without thinking, and throwing the current events to the side, I launched myself into his arms and snuggled into the crook of his neck. I could hear a little gasp getting caught in his throat, before he threw his arms around me and snuggled into me as well.

"G'mornin', sunshine." He mumbled sweetly into my hair, kissing the top of my head. I could feel heat rising to my face, a shameless smile threatening to rip my face in half. His southern drawl was thick with sleep, and I wasn't sure if I ever had, or ever would, hear something so adorable in my life.

"Morning, you sly dog. Really, have you any shame? Attacking a poor, defenseless, sleeping girl like that. What a gentleman!" I said sarcastically, without any real conviction. I was just happy to be in his arms again. I felt a laugh rumble out of him and before I could stop myself I muttered the thoughts that were meant to stay in my head.

"You have such a beautiful laugh, Vaughn. I love it when you laugh like that." I'd said, and just as quickly squeaked realizing that I'd spoken my thoughts aloud. My face felt hot all over and I wished I could just melt into his chest and never see the light of day again. I quickly hid my face deeper into his black button up shirt, noticing distractedly that his vest, hat, and boots all seemed absent. I fully expected him to laugh at me.

So when he tilted my face up with a finger under my chin and smiled one of the most beautiful smiles I'd ever seen him wear down at me, I was surprised. His face was also flushed red a bit, as he leaned in closer to steal my lips. Before he initiated the actual kiss, I felt him mutter something against my lips so sweetly and so sincerely that I could feel my heart leap up into my throat.

"Ya know, yer real cute when yer embarrassed." he said, a warm smile on his face as he finally locked his lips against mine. The kiss was a little more forceful than the previous we'd shared. This time his lips moved more actively against mine, with more feeling and urgency. I kissed him back just as deeply, loving the feel of his smooth lips on my own. My heart stuttered and thundered in my chest. After a few moments he released my lips, giving them one more soft peck before dumping me suddenly onto the couch and standing up. I squealed as I fell, flailing a bit, and I could hear him snort from repressed laughter. I pouted up at him and feigned anger. He just chuckled, reaching out with his large, masculine hand to ruffle my hair and bandana.

I watched him walk towards the kitchen and followed behind him a few feet like a lost puppy. He didn't seem to mind and actually stopped for a bit so I could catch up with his long strides. The man had loooong legs. As we walked into the kitchen I looked outside to see how dark it was. To my surprise and relief, it was still very bright outside.

"'Bout half past noon." He said, seeming to follow my stare out the window. I yawned, chancing a glance over at the table and noticing to my dismay that the dishes from this morning still waited there with half eaten food on them. Sighing, I regretted interrupting our breakfast halfway through to tell my story. It could've waited.

"What a waste of food." I muttered, marching over to the table and picking at my plate with a fork. The eggs looked cold and the pancakes looked soggy. Pulling as much strength as I could out of thin air I closed my eyes tight, bringing the plate over to the garbage and dumping its contents.

"This is killing me. Did I really have to interrupt breakfast? What a waste of food!" I repeated myself, glaring down at the food that lay in the garbage, wishing it'd just stayed fresh for a few hours. I remembered that often papa would interrupt supper or lunch to beat me, and that I'd often have to force down the cold, lifeless, soggy foods after he was done because I knew I wouldn't be getting anymore food that day. The thought of it sickened me and made my stomach turn. I didn't notice my hands were shaking until I dropped the plate and it shattered on the kitchen floor noisily, an explosion of ceramics and sound.

Vaughn rushed over to me almost immediately and guided me away from the mess, carefully around the shattered pieces so I wouldn't step on them. I didn't dare look up at him, I could already picture that sadness and worry in his eyes and I knew it would kill me.

"Chels', are you okay?" I heard him say, his hand still holding mine tightly as he sat me down at a chair at the table. I forced myself not to look at the other plate that lingered on the table, most likely holding cold, stale food. I gripped his hand a little tighter.

"Yeah, Vaughn, I'm okay. I just... remembered some things I wish I hadn't." I said quietly, finally daring to look up at him. The sadness was not there, though the worry was still present. The sadness had been replaced by understanding and acceptance. He glanced over at the other plate on the table and I followed his gaze, instantly wincing at the sight of the half eaten breakfast. Seeming to suddenly understand what I was feeling, he put his fingers under my chin and pulled my gaze back to him- away from the disgusting leftovers.

"Chels... why dontcha go sit in the living room while I clean up in here? Then we can go fer a walk, maybe have a picnic on Meadow Island?" he said, kissing my forehead. Without waiting for my answer, which would've been a yes anyway, he pulled me up by the hand I still had in his and lead me to the couch. Looking me over once, as if to make sure I was really fine, he kissed my cheek gently and left the room. I felt unbelievably happy because of the way he minded my feelings so well.

I watched him go with a smile. Everything was right in my world, for once. I hoped it'd stay that way.


	10. Chapter 10

After our rather sweet but uneventful picnic of cold porridge and pears dipped in caramel sauce (his favorite and mine), Vaughn and I lingered at the meadow for a few hours and just talked. He talked about his love of animals (all while stroking Cowboy's fur, who we had brought with and seemed to be taking to Vaughn quite quickly even after their little spat before), and I talked about my love of art. He seemed surprised by this, which led me to realize I really had neglected my painting as of late. I couldn't even remember the last time I had painted a picture of anything. It had been years, it must've been, because after papa's beatings got real harsh I stopped being able to go to school and visit the art room after hours. It made me a bit sad to realize that. He caught on to this quickly, and told me very abruptly that for Christmas (or Starry Night, as it was called on the islands) I _may or may not_ be receiving painting supplies. As good as Vaughn was at lots of things, he wasn't a very subtle man. He didn't even try to be. I resolved to myself that since I didn't have much money left from when I'd left papa, I'd spend the last of it on a few buckets of paint and paint him a small mural on the wall in his room while he was off the island. It'd be his Christmas/Starry Night gift. Maybe if I had enough I'd even buy a small canvas and paint him something he could bring to his apartment in the city. I really was a good artist and I'd make sure that his mural would be my greatest masterpiece.

After that, we hopped onto Kirk's boat and made our way back to the mainland. We walked to beach in a companionable silence, his hand in mine. I swung our hands back and forth merrily between us, a childish act, and if anyone else saw us they'd wonder how grumpy ol' Vaughn would even allow such a thing. But he smiled and left his arm hanging loosely, encouraging my selfish and juvenile behavior. Once we made it to the beach it was already getting dark, and we agreed to stay there until his ferry came to take him back to the city. The prospect of him leaving bothered me a bit, but I knew he had work to do and even I had no right to keep him from it. I could survive 5 days without him...right?

The waves filled our gaps in communication with their soft hushing noises, creating a peaceful environment. For the longest time we just sat together, looking up at the stars as he occasionally pointed out a constellation. For once, he honestly seemed interested in something other than animals. I was surprised that Vaughn was such a softie for stars, but I wasn't about to say anything. It was oddly charming that such a grumpy man who seemed to care more about money value than sentimental value took such an interest in something that he'd gain no profit from. His hand was over top mine, which rested on the sand of the beach as I leaned back, supporting me. Looking up at the stars made me feel so small...nonexistent and unimportant...and I loved it. I existed and not existed all at once. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize I was voicing them.

"You know, Vaughn, after that fight we had the day I met you, I came here. I remember it was raining, and I came and sat on the pier. I remember thinking that... it would be nice to not exist. Not die, but just... not exist. Or at least be out of everyone's way. I remember wishing that I could just be invisible to everyone, and live a quiet life. I thought of it as "existing by not existing." And when I look up at the stars, I get that feeling. That feeling of existing...but not existing. Just...being alive, not actually living. I thought that's what I really wanted, but..." I paused, and felt his hand squeeze mine tighter as I turned to look him in the eyes. He was looking right back into mine with the same intensity, a strange and resilient look on his face. He looked sad, and happy, and angry, and all the feelings I could ever name all at once. It was strange...and beautiful. Halfway through voicing my thoughts I had become aware of what I was saying but pushed on, really wanting Vaughn to hear them.

"...sitting here with you and feeling that feeling...I'm glad I can feel it without actually doing it. I'm glad that I can feel nonexistent without actually not existing. Because...I met you, and I met Julia, and I met Mirabelle and I met Denny and Gray...and now... thinking about not existing is scary. In those days, all I wanted was to just go away and disappear...but now smiling is so easy, happiness is so simple and pure, and I don't have to live worrying about when my next meal will be, when my next beating will be, when my next scary experience will be. And...I'm happy, ecstatic even, because I have you and everyone else. That's all I need. I'll exist for you guys. And I'll exist for myself, because now I know that it does get better. I used to hear that all of the time from Julia, that it'd get better, but until now that just seemed like a fairytale. It's almost like a dream...and I hope I never wake up." I said, and I could feel the tears flowing down my cheeks. Vaughn smiled back at me with that same look on his face, lifting his gloved hand to wipe away the tears. We both turned back to the stars, and silence settled between us. He didn't have to say anything, and neither did I. It wasn't an uncomfortable, waiting silence. It was just silence, as him and I were left to float in our minds together. That's what I loved about Vaughn. He didn't pry, or judge, or try to voice any response to my words. He just accepted them as they were and moved on.

The honking of a boat horn drew us away from our silence and we both looked towards the sound. My heart dropped slightly at the sight of his ferry cruising into the dock, ready to take him away from me. We both stood, rousing Cowboy from his sleep with his head in my lap, and made our way down the pier slowly, Even Vaughn, the hard worker with a passion for his job, seemed reluctant to make it to the ship and leave. As we stood at the end, Vaughn pulling his ferry ticket out of his back pocket, we both made eye contact. Even as he was handing his ticket to the man who monitored who entered and left the ferry, his amethyst eyes stayed locked on mine. Returning to my side to say his goodbyes, he pulled me into a tight hug and gave me a chaste kiss before pulling back, his hands on my shoulders, to look me in the eyes. I could see a nervousness in them, which made me uneasy. What was he going to do? I smiled weakly at him, hoping he wasn't going to break bad news to me. And to my relief, he smiled back, although lopsidedly and shyly. I saw his chest rise with a deep breath he must've taken through his nose and he exhaled loudly, as if preparing for something.

"Chels'...well, ya know, if it aint obvious by the way we been actin', I like ya. More than a friend. And...well...Chels', would ya do me the honor of bein' my girl? Officially? We're already actin' like we're datin', but...I don't want there to be any confusion. I want ya ta be my girlfriend, and I'll beg if I hafta." He said, blushing a bright red and looking anywhere at my face. I was confused and delighted. Did he really think I was going to say no? Did I seem like the type to kiss and touch a man I didn't have feelings for? He even said he'd beg... which was too tempting to pass up.

"Hmm...I don't know," I said with feigned reluctance, pressing a finger to my lips as if in deep thought. His face fell a bit but I forced myself not to instantly retract my words because of his sad lilac eyes. Those eyes resonated deep in my soul.

"Maybe if you pledge your undying loyalty and love to me, the princess, I'll think about it." I said, grinning slyly up at him. I could see a few men on the deck of the boat, also dressed in assorted cowboy get up which led me to believe they worked with Vaughn on the ship, looking down at us with shocked wide eyes. I could distinctly see a grin on one of their faces. Vaughn didn't seem to notice them up there, or didn't care to acknowledge their presence. He quickly realized that I was merely messing with him, and I expected him to laugh and scold me for playing with him like that, but he did the unthinkable.

His gloved, masculine hand took mine gently and he brought it up to his lips, kissing it softly and getting down on one knee as he did so. His other hand took his black Stetson cowboy hat off and he placed it over his heart in a show of what seemed like awe or worship. I took this moment, while his focus was on my hand, to look up at the men on board the ferry. They all seemed even more shocked, if at all possible, while the one who had been grinning now seemed just as surprised. I could see his shoulders shaking with a suppressed laugh. I quickly looked away, trying not to laugh. Vaughn would be getting hell for this, and that brought me a sadistic kind of joy. Me and Vaughn had a strange dynamic- we'd pick and tease good naturedly at one another as a form of bonding. Vaughn held my hand against his lips and gave it a few more kisses before he looked up into my cobalt eyes with mirth filled purple orbs and grinned slightly.

"Princess Chelsea, m'lady, I'd protect ya at the cost of my life. I will serve ya 'till the day I die. Yer the fire in my soul, the light of my life, and I wont take no fer an answer. Aint nothin' that could stop me from chasin' ya, 'cause yer the only one fer me. I pledge to stay by ya no matter what. So whadda ya say Princess? Be the girl beside this lowly knight?" he said in a false, knightly tone, trying to sound noble and serious. I could feel the small blush on my cheeks but also the laughter in my throat because_ all of his co-workers just heard that and he's never gonna live it down. _Placing my hand under his chin I pulled upwards for him to stand.

"Stand, knight!" I said in a mock commanding voice, as if I was royalty. He did so slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I forced my face to stay stern for a moment before I finally laughed, my face breaking out into a painfully wide smile. It took me a long moment to calm my booming laughs, and I could see his grin grow wider with every embarrassing little snort that managed to sneak out of me. I rarely snorted when I laughed, and if I was remembering right that would be his first time hearing it.

"Like I could say no to my noble knight? Of course I'll "be yer girl."" I said, mocking his southern tongue and feeling my chest burst with joy. He pulled me into his arms, all while chuckling a deep and rich laughter that I loved, and planted one on me. And as we broke free there was an explosion of hooting and laughter from above us. Vaughn froze in my arms and slowly, robotically looked up. And when he saw the men above us he looked positively mortified.

_He hadn't noticed them!_

I couldn't help but chuckle in his arms and he instantly glared halfheartedly down at me. He shook his head slowly, as if he couldn't believe himself or me.

"Ya knew they were there, didn't ya_ princess_?" he grumbled, emphasizing the nickname as if to drive the point home. I simply nodded and laughed when he sighed, kissing the top of my head before replacing the hat on his head and moving to board the ferry. He froze and quickly returned to my side, reaching up to untie the white kerchief around his neck. Confused, I watched with red cheeks as he pulled my crimson red bandana from my head as well. Placing his kerchief in my hand, he took my bandana and tied it securely around his neck in the place his kerchief had been. Following his lead, I fastened his white kerchief around my neck and smiled toothily up at him. I saw his cheeks darken and he pulled his hat over his face quickly, grunting in what seemed like approval and satisfaction. He nodded stiffly at me, still trying to hide his dark red blush, and patted my head softly before turning around and walking back towards the entrance to the boat. Stopping just before he got on, he turned and smiled at me.

"See ya soon, Chels'. Be safe." He said, before tipping his hat at me and hopping onto the ferry. I waited patiently and before long he appeared on the deck of the ship, instantly being swarmed by the other men. A few slapped him on the back and motioned down at me with shit eating grins. I could see the dark blush and angry glare on his face as he swatted them away, glaring darkly at anyone who dared even chuckle. I couldn't help but smile at the scene and snort when one man in particular received the harshest glare I'd ever seen Vaughn give anyone. I could distinctly hear Vaughn yell _"She aint that kinda girl, Ross! And I aint that kinda guy, neither!" _and I was automatically flattered that Vaughn would defend me like that, even if the other man was only joking around with him.

As the Ferry disappeared into the horizon, I looked up at the stars, smiling whilst tying and untying the knot holding white kerchief 'round my neck and pinching the material between my fingers. It smelled strongly of him, hay and a spicy cologne that I couldn't get enough of. That fact alone made my insides feel fuzzy and warm. What was this animal trading, enigmatic, stoic, rude, arrogant, creature loving cowboy doing to my head?


	11. Chapter 11

It was long after dark, a good hour after Vaughn's ferry had disappeared, before I made my way home. And in all of my schoolgirlesque bliss, I didn't come to realize what Vaughn leaving meant until I was already back to the animal shop. So as I walked into the small building, quietly removing my boots, the silence I was greeted with was the slap to the face for me that brought me back to reality. As I stood there in the doorway, in the still darkness of the night, it was all fairly clear to me. Even as Cowboy sat by my feet, looking up at me with those knowing and intelligent brown eyes, there was an emptiness to the shop that I desperately wished to fill.

_ I was alone. _

There was an acidic silence that settled over the small shop, eating away at my flesh and bones like a vulture picking at road kill. The stale stillness of the whole situation was like breathing in dust. I was acutely aware of every creak, every movement of the empty house against the wind. And even as I reached over to the wall on the left of me and flipped on the light switch, effectively destroying every speck of shadow and every place for danger to hide, the barren emptiness and absence of life was enough to keep my feet glued to their spot.

_For the first time since I left papa, I was alone._

I had never liked being alone. It scared me. Constantly in my past life I would sit in the silence of my home, only disrupted by Papa's drunken mumblings or his beatings, and it would give me this feeling of unadulterated existence. At those moments, I was the only one who existed in my little world. I was the one, true existence in those lonely moments of time. Cowboy softened the blow of that truth slightly, but only slightly and it wasn't enough. It was never enough for me, was it? At those times, all I wished was that he could walk and talk like I could so that I wasn't the only one to exist in the cruelty of human life. And that made me feel selfish. After all, Cowboy did all he could for me. He was the only family I had. And I was greedy enough to wish more of him. I was foolish and needy enough to wish upon him a fate as cruel as mine.

_I really was an ugly existence._

Those were the thoughts that came into my mind as I sat there frozen in the doorway of my new home, and all I could do was hate myself and everything I stood for. All I could do was look down at myself, all tight pale skin and jutting bone, and despise the humanity in my veins. I was so human, human to the point of insanity. When had I come to believe myself better than that, anyway? I should've expected nothing of myself from the very start, right?

_Yes, indeed I was human. Selfish, spiteful, deceitful; __**human!**_

It was in a daze that I finally melted from my frozen posture and made my way to the kitchen. It was in an oh-so-very papa like stupor that I crossed the cold floor of the kitchen, not remembering when it was I'd taken my socks off, and pulled the large butcher's knife from its drawer beside the refrigerator with my right hand. Yet it was with acute awareness and full consciousness that it pressed the blade deep in to my left wrist and dragged it across with purpose. The burn was almost unbearable, solid fire ripping into my flesh and molten lava bubbling from each cut, but at the same time it was almost intoxicating. And it's strange to me, looking back on it, how I can remember only certain details of the event. Why is it that I can't remember when it was that my socks had come from my feet, but I can still remember clearly which hand I used to pull the knife from its drawer? Perhaps I'll never know? I suppose it didn't matter then, and it doesn't matter now.

What does matter, is that I had never cut before. After all, I'd never seen a reason. In the past, in my eyes, I was the victim. The helpless, cowering, scared, cornered little victim who was good for nothing but crying and being a chew toy for the human race with its animal like tendencies. I'd never really seen myself as human, only a play thing for humanity. For the first time, I was seeing myself as nothing better than what (perhaps) I really was. I did not see myself as the victim. No, maybe I was a pushover? Maybe I was just another weak, feeble human who let herself play the part of victim all while placing blame and burden on others? So I thought, all while thinking these other thoughts, that I deserved punishment. And who better to deliver punishment onto me than myself; the one who knew all my sins and could really exploit my pains the most? After all, people can say all they like to hurt you, but it only really hurts if you believe it. And in that prospect, we are the only ones who can truly hurt ourselves.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, mutilating myself then taking a few long pauses in between to really feel the punishing pain, but once my mind was clear and my need for punishment was fully satisfied I could count 15 cuts on my arms; 7 on my left, and 8 on my right. The floor, god bless the fact that it wasn't carpet or linoleum lest there be stains, was spotted with small spots and puddles of my life essence and it was almost sickening to look at.

I couldn't believe I'd just done that. It was all in my head; a dangerous mindset that put lies into my mind. Sure, some of it was truth. I had spent a long time thinking I was above that side of humanity, but I knew better than anyone that humanity was not without its beauty alongside its ugliness. I knew that being human did not mean simply being selfish and needy, that between humans there was love and acceptance and friendship too. And I knew that although I was selfish and sometimes weak, I did not burden others. I did not allow myself to unless they asked for it specifically. And in reality, outside of the selfishness and hatred, I was in fact a victim. I was raped, I was beaten, and I was abused by the only blood tie I possessed! And I was blaming myself for that?!

This mindset was one I'd experienced before, one I knew only took me over when I let the darkness around me permeate my skin. It wasn't often I visited my darker thoughts for that very reason. It was for that very reason that I feared loneliness, feared darkness, feared some aspects of myself. I'd never taken it that far, never cut once in my life, but it was not as if I had never pondered the idea. I thought I had resolved never to go that far, never to get that low, never to be that weak- but there I sat, blood dribbling down my arms at an almost alarming rate (though I knew I'd be fine, it was not as if I had never bled before.) And that scared me; made me disappointed and sad.

With speed I thought only gods possessed, I ran to the kitchen sink and turned on the warm water. While it heated up I ran to the table, the table which I had only hours previously shared a nice breakfast with Vaughn at, and coated the fond memories with red sin as I reached for the napkin holder and drew out a handful of white paper napkins. Pressing one to each arm to stop myself from making any more of a mess and tainting the innocence of the kitchen with red, I scanned my eyes over the room to note where every bit of blood lie. Then, hastily as if I expected someone to come in and see the disgusting act I'd committed, I ran back to the sink and wet down a few of the napkins before running to and fro swiping up any blood I'd left behind. Once the kitchen was clear of any blood I walked to stand before the sink and shakily peeled the napkins from my arms. The bleeding seemed to have slowed, now only leaking out of the cuts and not dripping down my arms, and with one swift movement I plunged my arms into the burning hot water that cascaded from the faucet. It stung, oh god it stung, but I persevered with only one thought in mind.

**_"Oh god, what have I done?"_**

I don't remember when it was that I started crying: big, fat tears rolling down my cheeks and soaking my shirt. I don't know how long exactly I stood there: arms under the water even as they stopped bleeding and the warm water started to run cold again. All I remember is the feel of cold morning air that blew in from the living room window and the nauseating, writhing shame I felt slowly spreading and poisoning my soul like a drop of ink in a cup of water.


End file.
